In The Very Distant Future
by PeekabooFang
Summary: What all scifi fans have been waiting for since the beginning of time: A Star TrekMystery Science Theater 3000 crossover! NO ACTUAL MSTING
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: To avoid getting kicked out of Fanfictionland, there is no actual "MSTing" in this story. Only the characters are involved; I won't include any movie segments though I'd very much like to. Don't own Star Trek or Mystery Science Theater 3000. Paramount and Best Brains do, respectively. Me? I own myself. Capisce? I dunno nothin' about the science of Star Trek or any science at all really, so I'm basically gonna make up a bunch of stuff to make my thin little plotline work. Takes place for the Trekkies sometime during the first five-year mission. For the MSTies, during the years Mike was host and Dr. F and Frank were still in charge. Enjoy!**

**In The Very Distant Future**

Chapter 1: Rogue Wormholes and Aliens from the Broiler

Kirk, McCoy, and Spock cringed at the flash of bright light, all three covering their eyes from the blaze. A strange whirring sound accompanied by heavy vibrations tore through them, and they were carried away from the planet's surface.

When the three of them opened their eyes, they were on a small bridge aboard some sort of spacecraft, face to face with a man in a teal jumpsuit next to two robots. One was of a gold color with some sort of beak for a mouth and web in the back of his head, and the other resembled a red twentieth century gumball machine with a hover skirt attached. All three of this strange group emitted a "GAA-ah!" at the sudden apparition of the two humans and one Vulcan.

"What the--!" the bejumpsuited man sputtered.

"Well, this doesn't happen every day," replied the gold robot nonchalantly. "Now who's for lunch?"

"Crow, no," the gumbot admonished.

Recovering from his initial shock, the blond human laughed nervously and turned to his guests. "Heh heh...uh...what can I do for ya? Heh heh..."

"Spock, what the hell happened?" Kirk demanded harshly, not taking his eyes away from the three strange specters before him.

Expertly controlling his bewilderment, Spock turned to his tricorder. "It appears, Captain, that while exploring the planet's surface, we were randomly targeted by a rogue wormhole--"

"_Rogue _wormhole?" the robot apparently called "Crow" interrupted.

"Yeah, unlike those tasteful wormholes who play by the rules," responded the gumball one, inciting a high-pitched giggle from his companion.

"Guys, keep it down," shushed the blond human, before turning back to the others.

Confused by the exchange, Spock nevertheless continued with his explanation. "--which sent us hurtling through time and space to precisely 1994...we are currently orbiting above Earth aboard a crude satellite."

"1994?" asked Kirk, incredulity on his face.

"That's crazy, Spock! Earth could build satellites by 1994, but not for humans to live in without any sort of oxygen suit! And what about the robots!" McCoy exclaimed.

"Ah, I believe I can explain that," the blond human delicately interjected. "You see, my robot friends--Crow T. Robot here--"

"Hi."

"And Tom Servo--"

"Hello!"

"Were created by a man named Joel Robinson, actually. He created them to keep him company while forced by mad scientists Dr. Clayton Forrester and TV's Frank to watch awful movies until driven mad."

"You see," interrupted Servo, "Joel was a bit of an electronics guy at Gizmonics Institute located above Deep 13, where the Mads work--"

"I'd say more of a custodian," added Crow.

"Mmmm, no, he definitely worked with electronics," Servo responded.

"But, you know! 'He did a good job cleaning up the place'..."

"Yeah, but--"

"Guys, this isn't really relevant to the story," the somewhat irate blond human hurried them.

"Oh! Yeah, right," they said in unison.

"Well, eventually, Dr. Forrester decided it would be a really great idea to strand Joel in space and force him to watch cruddy movies and whichever one finally broke the poor dope's mind would be the one to subject on the world and thus take it over," Servo continued.

"Yeah, and because Joel is really smart, he was able to use extra parts around the ship to make us. 'Course, without those parts the dummy couldn't tell when the movies began or ended, but I'm not complaining," said Crow.

"Uh-huh. Eventually, though, Joel was able to escape the SOL --Satellite of Love--by using an escape pod hidden inside a box of hamdingers, and so the Mads then chose me--I'm Mike Nelson by the way, hi--because I was working as a Temp in Deep 13 at the time."

"And that pretty much brings us up to speed," concluded Servo.

"Yeah," said Crow. All three stood waiting for the three strangers' reactions, Nelson wearing a pleasant smile and nodding amiably.

The commanding officers of the Enterprise were...confused.

"Dr...Forrester? Spock, do you know anything about a Dr. Clayton Forrester?" asked a very mystified Kirk to his first officer.

Spock was finding it hard to adapt to robots who spoke with human-like voices with human mannerisms. The unusually calm and cheerful demeanor of this Nelson also unnerved him. He cleared his throat. "Not to my recollection, Captain."

"Oh, well...I guess Dr. Forrester doesn't take over the world then," Mike said, laughing softly and shrugging.

Remembering his duty as Captain, to always endeavor to turn a strange situation into a normal one, Kirk straightened his posture and addressed the crew of the SOL. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. This is my first officer Spock and Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy. We are from the 23rd century. We're lost. We were exploring an uncharted planet when a wormhole took us here. With your cooperation, we are going to attempt to return to our own time."

"Uhhhhhhh...okay," assented Mike obligingly.

"When does this Forrester force you to watch these 'cruddy movies' of yours?" inquired McCoy.

"Oh, actually, the Mads just summoned us before you arrived. We should be getting a signal from Cambot anytime now," said Mike.

"Cambot?" asked Spock, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, he's one of the other robots. He records everything around here."

"How many more robots are there?" questioned Spock.

"Just him and Gypsy. Gypsy basically runs the entire ship," explained Mike.

"Nice ears by the way," said Servo appreciatively.

"Yeah! Where can I get some?" asked an eager Crow.

The two robots zeroed in on Spock, examining his pointed ears.

Unused to compliments about his Vulcan attributes, Spock shifted uncomfortably before replying. "You do not _get _them. I am part Vulcan."

"Huh? You're related to a Roman God?" asked a perplexed Servo.

"Ooh! Or are you related to the people who make the broilers and cheesemelters?" asked Crow. This notion seemed to strike a chord with the two bots, who murmured excitedly and moved closer to Spock, who was surprised at such an illogical display from two machines.

"Boys, I think he means he's an alien," chuckled Nelson. "And Vulcan is a brand name, not the name of the actual people who manufacture the broilers."

"He is correct," Spock said.

"Wow!" cried Crow at Spock's statement. "It's true, then! It's a _brand name!"_

"What I meant was--" Spock said in an uncharacteristically awkward display.

"I wouldn't bother," Mike said, placing a light hand on Spock's shoulder.

"But how do you all breathe aboard here?" asked an impatient McCoy. Too much jibber-jabber from this bunch, he decided.

"Oh, relax," Servo said, "Joel or Gypsy or the Mads or somebody arranged all that. Who cares!"

"Ah! Speaking of whom," Mike said, indicating the blinking light in front of him, "Here's Zeppo and Gummo calling now."

TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

**I know it's mostly MST3K so far and not a whole lot of Trek. This chapter will still be more of the same, what with introducing the Mads and all, but after that expect a lot more Kirk, McCoy, and Spocko as they attempt to get back to their own time. This chapter will be a short one, so it won't be long until our favorite trio will be center stage.**

Chapter 2: Kirk Is Uppity and Dr. Forrester Gets Pissy

A large screen descended from the ceiling displaying the image of a doughy man dressed all in black with large platinum hair with a spit curl. He stood in what appeared to be a laboratory of some sort.

"Hey, guys. Clay's looking for your movie right now, so I guess I'll just…" he leaned in closer to the screen, squinting. He had apparently noticed the three strange looking visitors. "…Hey….what the sam scratch is going on up there? You boys know you're not allowed to have friends over till you've cleaned up the place and asked permission! Clay is going be very upset with you," he scolded lightly.

"I assume this is your…. 'Tv's Frank?'" Asked Spock to Mike, bemused by this character's mildly condescending manners. Mike nodded, with a "What can I say?" expression on his face.

By now, Frank had abandoned his parental front, and was now quietly taunting them in a singsong voice. "You're gonna get in trouble, you're gonna get in trouble, Clay's gonna biopsy your spleen, gonna sale it on the black market—"

A voice boomed from off-screen. "FRANK!"

"Yeah, Steve-areeno?" asked Frank innocently.

"What in God's name!" exclaimed McCoy as an incredibly eccentric figure moved in close to Frank. The man wore a lime green lab coat, lime green glasses, and wild hair that flew in every direction. Both hair and mustache had an identical white streak, giving Dr. Clayton Forrester the appearance of one struck by lightning. He was looking piercingly at Frank; therefore he was unaware of the happenings on the SOL.

"Frank, how many times do I have to tell you not to feed the hamster! Withholding love and nutrients is essential in this experiment!"

"But, it's Perry…" Frank pleaded, beginning to weep softly.

Forrester only raised an angry fist. "Well your pal Perry will soon die! Die, the miserable beast, die!"—Suddenly remembering Mike and the bots, Forrester turned to the screen, grinning jovially. "Oh! Hello, there, Freeman Lowell! Botsypoos! Strangely outfitted men probably not from our time! Your experiment this wee—" he stopped, realizing something he said was a little out of place. "Hey…wait a minute…" pointing an angry finger at the screen, he yelled, "What are YOU people doing up there! You kids know no one's allowed to come to the SOL without the place getting cleaned up first or without asking MY permission! PLAYTIME IS OVER, BUCKAROOS!"

Kirk decided enough was enough with these babbling maniacs. "We would be off this insane asylum if we could get off, but for the moment we are stranded here." He sneered contemptuously. "We know all about your 'mad experiments' and we will take no part in your sick games! I am Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise from the 23rd century, and I and my team will do all in our power to return to our own time!"

"Oh, you will, will you? Hmmmm? Is that your little master plan?" Forrester began to cackle, getting a little too excited. "Let's see how easy that will be when I CUT OFF YOUR OXYGEN!"

He lunged for the controls in front of him, but Frank stopped him by gently grabbing his arm. "Oh, c'mon, Clay. Let Mike and the bots have fun with their friends. They're good kids, they deserve a break. C'mon."

Forrester pulled away and crossed his arms, attempting to hide his pout behind a threatening grimace. "Ohhhh…all right. But those two humans and smurf better be off this ship by the end of the experiment! Unless of course, they _want _their spleens biopsied!" Forrester straightened his jacket, drawing himself to his full height. "And speaking of the experiment, Mike, your film today is 'Flesh Feast.' It's a movie about a mad scientist who uses corpses to try and recreate Hitler. It has a lot to do with maggots and murder and intrigue. Veronica Lake stars in the Gregory Peck role, and this is the first movie she made after she died. I hope it goes down hard; send them the movie, Frank."

"Those ears are divine! I have some cute clip-ons that would really bring out your eyes…" Frank addressed Spock. Fed up, Forrester grabbed a rolled up newspaper and smacked Frank with it, causing another burst of tears from his lackey.

"THE MOVIE, FRANK!"

"All right, just don't hit, don't hit, Clay," sniffing, Frank pushed a button on the control panel, and the screen went blank.

"Fascinating," Spock said, not quite sure what to make of the inept but violent duo in Deep 13.

"What's going to happen now?" Asked McCoy to Mike.

"In just a few seconds, we'll get movie sign, which is a mild warning that if we don't get into the theater, the Mads will kill us."

"Yup!" said Crow. "What with them being evil and all."

"So, while we're in there, you folks feel free to do whatever you need to get back to wherever it is you came from!"

"Only try not to go into the green room," advised Servo.

"Yeah, Servo and I tried to redo the wallpaper with slices of Swiss cheese. It's kinda melty and smelly now. No clue why," confessed Crow.

Hoping to dispel this image by shaking his head, Kirk addressed the bunch. "Thank you for your cooperation. We'll treat all your instruments carefully, I promise."

"No problem. Hey, look for Gypsy! She could probably fix you up with what you need," advised Nelson. Just then, the entire bridge began to jerk around violently, the lights flashing and a loud buzzing sound pounding against everyone's ears.

Mike and the bots stood terrified, screaming "WE'VE GOT MOVIE SIGN!" They then flailed about wildly, before heading off in different directions. Eventually the bridge returned to normal, leaving Kirk and his team perplexed.

"_That_ was mild!" asked a very putout McCoy.

Kirk sighed wearily. "They're a strange group, Bones. Considering what they probably usually have to put up with around here, it's no surprise they are surprised by very little. Spock, any ideas on how to get out of here?"

"I will have to consult the satellite's data system, sir," Spock answered. "Perhaps if I endeavor to find this 'Gypsy' she can provide me with the information I require."

"Good. Let's waste no time in finding her, then," said Kirk. The trio split up to look for the robot, each privately wondering at the predicament they now found themselves in.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Bacon Repairs and Richard Basehart

"Captain's log, supplemental: after being taken away from the planet's surface, Spock, Dr. McCoy, and I have found ourselves stranded on the Satellite of Love, a spacecraft orbiting above Earth. The year: 1994. The inhabitants: one human named Mike Nelson and four robots. Their involuntary mission: watch awful movies sent by the deranged Dr. Clayton Forrester from the planet's surface. Meanwhile, my team and I are endeavoring to find a way back to our own time, to the Enterprise. The elusive Gypsy has yet to be found, but I find myself in the engine room, looking over the generator. It appears to be malfunctioning, though as of now I cannot tell wh-Oh, for crying out-Spock, get over here!"

Kirk lowered his recorder as he found the problem, both disgusted and amazed. Spock, who had been roaming the corridors in pursuit of Gypsy, heard his Captain's call and noting the irritated tone entered the engine room.

"Captain?" Spock's eyebrows went flying under his bangs as he saw what the Captain held in his hands: the digital switching module with bacon strips covering places that had been damaged.

"Will you just look at this? No wonder the satellite is falling apart; with repairs like this-it-" forcing himself to calm down, Kirk finished, "It merely boggles the mind, Mr. Spock."

"A most..._unusual _method in repairs," Spock agreed.

Throwing the piece aside after peeling off the bacon, Kirk asked, "Any luck finding this so-called 'Gypsy'?"

"Negative, Captain. I have not yet searched every room of the satellite, but she does seem to sequester herself away quite well. Unless of course-"

"Nelson was lying?"

"I see no logical reason for him to do so, Captain."

"Did it ever occur to your brilliant Vulcan mind that maybe the 'crew' here aren't too concerned with logic?" inquired McCoy, who walked in to the engine room in just enough time to hear the last of the exchange between Kirk and Spock, giving him the opportunity to berate Spock on the topic of his beloved logic.

"It did occur to me, Doctor," Spock admitted.

"They're a damnable troupe, Jim," groused McCoy. "The closest thing they have to a sickbay is a tiny room with a half-empty box of 'Flintstone' band-aids and a jar of leaches. That's right: leaches. Now, I know 1994 is a looong time ago for us, but they stopped using leaches after the Civil War!"

Shuddering to dispel _this _mental image, Kirk addressed his CMO. "Have you had any luck finding this Gypsy?"

"No luck at all. I agree with you, Jim; I think Nel-whatshisface made up this Gypsy!"

"Did someone say my name?" A voice that sounded like a male falsetto caused the three to jump followed by another jump when they laid eyes on the speaker. Her large, purple head resembled that of a vacuum cleaner on steroids, an image heightened by the long, thick black tube serving as her neck and body. In the center of her head sat a round yellow light, which appeared to serve as a crude eye.

"Are you...Gypsy?" asked Kirk once he recovered from the surprise.

"Yes. Um...may I help you? Have the Mads sent you as replacements for Mike, Tom, and Crow? I just saw them head into the theater ten minutes ago...so I don't think they know if they have been laid off..."

"No, we haven't been sent as replacements. We were sent here...accidentally."

"Oh! That's a shame. Oh, well! Nice talking to you!" She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Kirk went forward, holding his hands out. "Mr. Nelson said you control the ship's higher functions. Maybe you can help us."

"I'll certainly try. Are you sure you weren't sent here on purpose? I just like to double check."

"We are certain, Madame," said Spock, coming forward. "We are not from your time. We are endeavoring to return. It will probably require your expertise, however. Would you mind very much leading me to your data bank system? I should very much like to analyze it." He raised a polite eyebrow.

If Gypsy could blush, she would have. "Oh, my...no one's ever called me 'Madame' before...or talked about my expertise...oh... you're about as gentlemanly as Richard Basehart." Along with blushing, Gypsy would have very much liked to bat some eyelids. What a nice, deep voice this pointy-eared man had! What nice manners! "I'm not used to star treatment...I feel so inadequate."

"Well, don't they treat you nicely here?" McCoy said, warming up to this gentle giantess.

"Oh, yes! Well, Mike's very nice. Tom and Crow are too, I guess. I just don't really get them."

"Get them?" asked Spock.

"Tom cries and sings a lot, and Crow sometimes panics while making sandwiches," explained Gypsy.

"In...deed," murmured Spock, rather at a loss for a response. Therefore, he decided the most logical route would be to return to the problem at hand. "I am Commander Spock. I would be very pleased to have your assistance now, if I may."

"Oh, certainly," Gypsy said, fighting down giggles of anticipation. All by herself with this striking stranger... true, nobody would ever replace Richard Basehart, but this Spock was very charming. "The data system and all the ship's logs are over on the other side of the engine room. This way...Mr. Spock." Spock followed Gypsy's lead, leaving behind an amused Kirk and McCoy.

"Even before she was born Nurse Chapel had imitators," remarked McCoy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Cross Dressing Robots and Maggot Mayhem

"I have computed the data and pinpointed the exact location of the wormhole, Captain," Spock informed Kirk two hours later. Spock had spent that time adjusting himself to the primitive tools aboard the SOL, and found Gypsy to be a helpful and knowledgeable assistant, although her constant "oohs" and "ahs" when he told her of the future were, admittedly, rather irritating. He found it impossible to dislike her, however, as he related to her status as somewhat of an outsider. He learned that her responsibility in running the ship kept her from joining Nelson and the others from viewing the films, leaving her clueless to what the three of them were talking about half the time. As a Vulcan accustomed to working on a ship full of humans, Spock understood and, were he not Vulcan, would have empathized.

Meanwhile, Kirk and McCoy unearthed a tape labeled "Captain Crow T. Robot's log." When played, however, the majority of it contained someone making fart noises into the mic, while the rest was some sort of incomprehensible screenplay involving a hyperactive bowl of soup attacking Earth. They had just shut off the tape and exchanged flabbergasted glances when Spock and Gypsy reentered the engine room and gave them the good news.

"Excellent, Spock! What's the next step?"

"By my calculations, Captain, if we return to the point we were taken to, the bridge, and I simulate the last circumstances with this Simulation X-Deux Machine-A device (**Author's Note: Yeah, I just made up something ridiculous to move my plot along. W hat of it?**) That Miss Gypsy assisted me with"--at hearing the 'Miss' attached to her name, Gypsy giggled self-consciously-- "We will again attract the wormhole and reverse our location."

Kirk and McCoy examined the large, complicated looking machine Spock was just barely able to hold with both hands. Several gleaming buttons, wires, and tubes protruded from it, and both officers gave up trying to understand the details.

"Very well, Mr. Spock. Let's return to the bridge."

"I'll miss you guys," said Gypsy sadly, really meaning she'd miss Spock. _Calm down, girl, _she told herself. _He's charming, but it would be pretty creepy if anything really happened between you, what with him being who he is, and you being... large, purple, and robotic._

Gifting her with one of his lopsided grins, Kirk said, "We owe you a lot, Gypsy. Thank you."

"You're welcome! I better come with you to the bridge and help you with the simulation, Mr. Spock."

"Thank you," said Spock, standing aside to let her pass before him, inciting another giggle from Gypsy, which in turn incited a randy chuckle from McCoy.

"Spock, you ol' charmer," he said once Gypsy was out of earshot.

"She is a very skilled technical assistant, Doctor," replied Spock icily, "I will thank you to limit your imagination to that concerning any emotions between us." With that, Spock turned on his heel and followed Gypsy to the bridge, while Kirk and a still snickering McCoy trailed close behind.

The snickers soon disappeared once they returned to the bridge, when McCoy cried out, "What in Hades!"

Mike and the bots were right where they had first seen them, only this time both Crow and Servo were in sequined evening gowns with long blond wigs, and Mike was in the middle holding a large crate full of...maggots?! In the background a sultry female voice was singing a 1940s song on the ship's audio player.

"Mr...Nelson?" asked Kirk hesitantly.

Surprised and more than a little embarrassed, Mike flinched a little and turned the music off, to groans of disappointment from Crow and Servo. "Oh! Uh...didn't know you guys were still here...the experiment's over...and...um..." he nodded to Crow and Tom. "Both these guys want to be like Veronica Lake in the movie and own a maggot farm, but since they only ordered one case of maggots, they're gonna decide who gets it by whoever can lip-sync to Veronica Lake lip-syncing to Martha Meers on this old movie soundtrack the best...hahaha." How come these ideas always seemed so much sounder of mind in action than when described? Mike smiled awkwardly.

"I...see," Kirk said after a lengthy, uncomfortable pause. Clearing his throat, he indicated Spock and Gypsy, who were already tinkering with the device in the corner (as soon as Spock saw Mike and the bots in that condition, he decided to immediately turn to his work to distract himself). "We are going to simulate the last time the wormhole occurred," Kirk informed Mike. "In just a few moments, expect a flash of light exactly familiar to the one before. We will be gone by the time things return to normal."

"Well, it's been great knowing you!" Mike said. "Good luck with the future and all!" Deep inside, Mike was a tad jealous. Man...To live like these guys, roaming the universe, fighting intergalactic crime...while he was stuck here, watching crappy movies until the end of time.

"It's been...interesting," Kirk admitted of the experience.

Just then, a slight turbulence began to shake the bridge, and little shots of light began to penetrate those gathered.

"Working, Captain!" Spock said.

At this precise moment, Crow and Tom were sick of waiting, and began to nudge Mike forcefully.

"C'moooooon! It's my turn to sing! I'll kick Servo's ass, just you see!"

"Nuh-uh, booger!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"Why, you little!"--The two robots jumped at each other, pushing Mike in the process, who emitted a "WHOA!" as he spilled the entire crate out of his hands, sending maggots flying all over the bridge, the majority of which fell onto and inside of the Simulation X-Deux Machine-A just as the wormhole shot into the satellite.

There was chaos of blinding light and a deafening roar as the instrument malfunctioned, with Kirk screaming "NEEEELLLLLSOOOOOOOOON!!!!!" vengefully. Eventually the bridge returned to normal, with Kirk, McCoy, and Spock still aboard. They looked down at the fried device, and all three suppressed a moan at the realization they would most likely have to start all over from scratch.

"Hell's bells," McCoy growled.

Losing his temper, Kirk whipped around to confront Mike. "Nelson, you clums—" he stopped, realizing no one was there.

"Mike! Crow! Servo!" Gypsy cried hysterically. "They're...they're...they're GONE!"

Kirk and his team exchanged petrified glances, understanding what must have happened.

MEANWHILE, ON THE USS ENTERPRISE A FEW CENTURIES AWAY...

Scotty sat in the captain's chair, strumming his fingers impatiently, pensively staring off into the distance. The science and engineering team had spent hours looking at the data trying to discover a way to recover the landing party. So far, nothing looked encouraging.

"Transporter room to bridge!" Lt. Kyle's animated voice came through the intercom, jarring Scotty from his thoughts.

"Bridge here. What is it, lad?"

"You better get down here, Mr. Scott," Kyle said in an astonished tone, "Three life forms just appeared...but they sure as hell aren't the Captain, Mr. Spock, or Dr. McCoy!"

**Cliffhanger, baby!! HAHAHAHAHA!!! How do you like _dem _apples?!**


End file.
